Paper and Fire (The Great Library #2)(72)
Jess feinted to his left, and when the sphinx on his side lunged, he jammed his gun crosswise into the fearsome jaws. One of the paws swiped for him, and he heard Glain shout a warning even as he twisted to avoid it. He didn’t dare risk a glance at Khalila. This sphinx wasn’t going to hesitate to kill him, and he didn’t dare take even a second of attention away. It moved like a snake, like something unnaturally fluid, and his sweaty fingers slipped as he tried for the switch beneath the jaw. He missed, ducked a swipe, and heard metal crunching as the sphinx bit down on the gun. He tried for the switch again and got knocked off balance by a metallic head butt hard enough to send him flying backward. A massive paw armed with razor claws raked a path through the floor where he’d been. He hit, rolled off the wall, and came back low and fast.
This time, he flung himself around with one arm over the lion’s head and swung onto the beast’s back. The heat coming from it at this angle felt intense even through the layers of his uniform, but he ignored that, ignored the blood dripping from fingers that had grazed sharp claws on the way up, and wrapped both arms around the thing’s neck as it reared to try to throw him off. When it crashed down to four paws again, the mangled gun fell from the sharp-toothed mouth, and the sphinx’s head whipped around at an impossible angle to bite.
He got to the switch, somehow, just before it sank those teeth into his neck.
As he slid down, leaving the sphinx frozen in that unnatural, twisted position, he realized that Khalila’s sphinx was equally still . . . in a crouch, at her feet, like a particularly dangerous pet.
“Maybe I should let you do this from now on,” he said with a grin that felt half-mad, and she let out a laugh at least as uncontrolled. “We’ve still got one soldier and a Spartan to deal with. Reinforcements will come.”
“Then we should hurry.”
That was a new voice coming from behind them, and as Jess turned, he saw Glain and Santi had beaten him to it with impressive speed. They leveled weapons at the newcomer making her way down the steps, and Santi lowered his weapon first.
Morgan.
Glain said, “It can’t be. How in Hades did you . . .”
Morgan smiled, but it wasn’t for Glain at all. She was looking through the rest of them, straight to Jess, and the smile was for him.
“I brought what I could,” she said. “But we have to go quickly. I disabled the Translation Chamber to keep reinforcements from coming through from Alexandria, but Captain Santi’s troops will respond soon, and we don’t want to have to kill anyone.”
“Morgan?” Khalila said, and then repeated it with more force. “Morgan!” She rushed to her and clasped her in an embrace—one that the English girl returned full force. “I didn’t think you could leave the Iron Tower!”
“That’s a story for later,” Morgan said. Jess couldn’t take his eyes from her. How is she here? The Translation Chamber, obviously, but . . . It hit him then that the collar around her neck was gone.
She was free. Free. Just as she’d said she’d be.
He couldn’t quite believe his eyes, until she pushed past the others and wrapped her arms around him, and then he had to believe it—her familiar, remembered warmth, the scent of her hair, her skin. It felt right, having her in his embrace again.
Dario, of course, was the one to say, “Not that I’m not delighted to see you, too, Morgan, but can the welcomes wait? We’re on a schedule.”
He was right, of course, and Jess stepped away. Not without regret.
Glain wasn’t smiling. She was watching Morgan with cool, assessing eyes, and now she said, “This is strangely opportune timing. I thought it was impossible to escape the Iron Tower.”
“That’s what they want us to believe,” Morgan said. “There are several ways, actually, but getting the collar off was half the battle. I’ve spent months searching for a way to get out and stay out. When I found it, I waited until Scholar Wolfe made his move to join you. So the timing is exact. Not opportune.”
“You can understand her doubts,” Dario said, which was weaselly of him, sympathizing while still not agreeing. “We haven’t seen you since you were driven off by the Obscurist Magnus, apparently never to be seen again. One thing we know about the Library: it’s fully capable of turning us against each other.”
“You think you can’t trust me?” Morgan’s face set hard and she returned Glain’s stare, not Dario’s. “While you were being pampered and groomed, free to do as you liked, I was locked away. You have no idea where I’ve been.” She touched the skin at her throat: too pale, from long months of being circled by the collar. But the collar was gone. “I left my chains back in the Tower. And I’m not going back. If you don’t think you can trust me, fine—I’ll go my own way. But I’m not leaving until I see all of you safely out of here.”
Jess silently moved to her side, because suddenly there were sides, and at the very worst time. It lasted only a second, a terrible second, because Santi snapped, “No time for this. We trust her because we have to trust her. Now go.”
He moved past them, and Glain went with him. Dario and Khalila were next, with Wolfe, who was also—to Jess’s slight surprise—armed. The gun blended in with his black robes.
He seemed to falter a little, as if the memories had overwhelmed him. Morgan held out her hand to him. Wolfe looked at it as if he’d never seen such a thing and walked on.